


bleed my love

by orphan_account



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magical Abilities, Alternate universe - Mafia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21920935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Felix gets visited on his sick bed by his ex-partner in crime and the feelings that will never let him go.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 12
Kudos: 62





	bleed my love

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! There are a few things I would like to say about this fic so I will go in order.  
> \- This is a collaborative work between me and [@alciedoodles](https://twitter.com/alciedoodles/) on twitter! Click [HERE](https://twitter.com/alciedoodles/status/1209179969538142208) for the absolutely amazing companion piece they did for this fic, I am still in awe at how beautiful it is and honestly if you haven't seen it YOU SHOULD GO NOW.  
> \- This fic is technically a Bungou Stray Dogs AU but you don't need to know anything about BSD to enjoy it!! In fact all I take from BSD is ability names and what Ashe and Felix can do but it should be obvious even without previous knowledge so!  
> \- Okay I'm done screaming about stuff. Feel free to follow me at my own twitter @wordglitch, I am gay and love ashelix. Thank you for stopping by!

Three gunshots, one bullet wound.

Statistically, Felix had come out mostly unharmed out of the whole ordeal, but his pride was bleeding more than the  _ superficial  _ —Ingrid would kill him herself if he said it was nothing one more time— wound that was unceremoniously treated and bandaged the second he was dragged back to their headquarters. They had doctors, but Felix had barked at them to go for people in worse situations. He could handle once the darned bullet was out and he was forced into bed.

Conflicts with the Black Eagle mafia were getting more and more out of hand. It used to be small scuffles, territorial disputes, nothing ever big enough to involve their ability users; Felix would go for the chance to get a fight, but had never unsheathed his sword until that evening. He’d done so in self defense, and watched as the demon living in his blade slaughtered man after man at his side as the fight escalated to a full on war between factions.

It was most likely still going. When they dragged Felix off the field, Dimitri had the eyes of a famished beast, which meant he wouldn’t rest until all those on the opposing side were dead. He had some bitter words to share with their Boss, afterwards, something few were given the right to, so Felix always made sure to go off as much as he needed at their meetings. There was also Dedue, but Dedue agreed with the Boss too much for Felix’s liking.

_ At this rate, he’ll have no mafia left to lead _ . Felix sighed and sank into his bed sheets, too many thoughts to let rest take him. The painkillers were doing their job at least, and he was thankful for that. No matter what the doctors said he would be up and about again the next day, because he would rather have people shove paperwork at him than be stuck in bed and turning into a prune. 

Felix’s room didn’t have anything lovely to look at to offer, either. The single bed in the middle, white walls, and mahogany pieces of furniture that made it look smaller than it already was; all that made it abundantly clear it belonged to Felix was the large shelf of fantasy books and movies propped next to the window.

His eyes darted to the door of his room when the sound of ginger footsteps reached his ears. Usually if people wanted something with him they would simply open the door, but whoever it was was hesitating, as if they weren’t meant to be there. He heard two voices whispering. Annette’s he recognized easily, as he’d had tea with her just that morning, but the other — it was too shushed, yet in the way it spoke, it paused, Felix soon recognized it as well.

Someone that had no right to be there. He would question Annette later for allowing the traitor in to begin with, but as soon as the intruder was in and closed the door, Felix called for his Demon Snow. The spirit of his sword materialized into the shape of a man older than Felix yet of similar features, floating behind its target and the blade at the young man’s neck.

Felix made sure not to look into his visitor’s eyes, for he knew what he’d see —lovely green, concern and affection. He didn’t want to see any of those things, not from him. In fact  _ Ashe _ was lucky to not have been killed instantly, but it dawned on Felix that only the idea of spilling his blood was a sickening thought. Still, it didn’t quell his anger nor his disappointment. 

“Felix,” Ashe said, his voice not the whisper in the hallway, but still barely loud enough for Felix to hear. He was smiling, which made it worse. “It’s been quite long, hasn’t it?”

“Five years.” Felix’s tone was bitter. “Give me one good reason not to have you dead on the floor right now, you traitorous bastard.”

Ashe hummed, and his eyes scanned the room, as if to remember what it looked like. He didn’t look tense at all, with Demon Snow’s blade at his throat, perhaps because it wasn’t the first time it was happening. Back in their younger days Felix had picked up the bad habit of using his ability to threaten people when they mildly inconvenienced him; of all of them, Ashe had taken it in stride and somehow even struck up conversation with a thing that couldn’t talk. 

It was the aura with which Ashe reacted to most horrible things that happened when being part of the mafia that had made Felix curious about him to begin with. Whatever Ashe had gone through before joining them, it had made him simply turn his head around when anything unpleasant happened, or just stare at hell right in the eye. He’d always carried contempt, disgust even when things were especially bad — but never fear.

And there he was, unbothered as ever, hands behind his back and smiling at Felix like he didn’t disappear five years ago, like they’d had dinner together just yesterday. It was infuriating, and more infuriating that Felix was ready to fall into their old dynamic with him if it wasn’t for all the pent up resentment surfacing for the first time in years.

“I don’t think I have one.” Ashe’s response came with a small sigh, and Felix was glad it was too dark in the room to see him properly. 

Only the faint, almost gone sunset was filtering through the curtains at the other end. Felix’s bed was in the middle, so his right side was bathed in the reds and oranges that reminded him too much of the bloodbath occurring at the edge of their city. Everything else had fallen into a muted dark blue; if he looked at them, he knew Ashe’s eyes would stand out, shining even in the bleakest of nights. 

“Then why are you here?” He asked. He tried to prop himself up against the pillows with his working arm, careful not to stir the wound. The downside of heavy painkillers was that he wasn’t sure if he did make the mistake. 

“If I am honest, I am not so sure myself.” Ashe made the motion to get closer to the bed. Felix allowed it, but Demon Snow remained right behind its target just in case. He stopped right by the night table, close enough for Felix to be able to see his face now but not too close to make the situation more uncomfortable than it was. “News of the fight have reached Claude’s ears. He was briefing us on the casualties on both sides, and… well, here I am.”

“This mess has nothing to do with the Golden Deer.” Felix tried to glare, finally resolving to meet eyes with his long gone companion. Almost nothing about him had changed, except that Ashe was taller, his features slightly sharper; he’d learned to comb his hair. Everything else, from the gentle eyes and smile and myriad of freckles was still there for Felix to take in and get used to all over again. 

“I am not here as a member of the Golden Deer, Felix.” He hesitated for what felt like an eternity of only their breaths breaking the silence of the room. The sun was almost gone. “I am here as someone who’s been eating over by worry for his friends night after night. I am here as Ashe, and nothing more.”

Felix laughed —hoarse, sarcastic. “ _ You _ are the one who left, Ashe, without a word, and the next thing we know you’re Claude’s loyal subordinate, and now you tell me you worry? Where were you, when headquarters got bombed? Where were you, when Mercedes lost her orphanage? I’ll tell you where. Mooching up to von Riegan. Congratulations, mister executive. You’ve made it.”

“That’s not—” Ashe fumbled with the tie on his black suit, as if he wasn’t entirely comfortable in it yet. “I had good reasons to leave, Felix. My own, personal ones, which only Claude can help me with; the other reason...I’m sure you’re starting to see it too, aren’t you?”

“Dimitri, his blood feud, or both.”

“When Dedue brought me in from the streets, the Blue Lions were not what they are today. The name didn’t bring fear in the mouths of civilians. We were all more naive and we were children, but that doesn’t change what we’ve become. What this city has become.” Ashe’s smile carried a weight that made Felix feel ashamed for never asking about it. He swatted the regretful part of his mind away.

“You are a complete and utter fool if you expect the  _ mafia _ to be a nice place, Ashe. You’ve always been idealistic, expecting things to change for the better. You seem to have forgotten what brought us all together to begin with.”

“I haven’t.” Ashe met his eyes again, and tentatively put his hand over Felix’s. “I may have left because everything going on terrified me, Felix, but I swear on my honor that I never stopped caring. Caring about everyone. Caring about you.”

“And you expect me to fucking believe that?” Felix glared at him. Demon Snow had raised its blade above, ready to strike at its master’s command if Felix’s emotions got even slightly more out of check.

Ashe shook his head. “No. I won’t ask that of you. Just to let me be here, and worry over my silly friend who got shot for the first time in five years because he decided that bringing a sword to a shootout was a good idea.”

Felix’s face had turned so pink that even his goddamn ability was giving him questioning looks. He shooed it away and it disappeared back into the blade where it belonged, and Felix was just staring at Ashe with disbelief. He’d walked here after years and was now making fun of Felix, again, as if they’d said goodnight to each other the previous day like they used to, when Ashe would curl up at his side and —

“How was I supposed to know I’d get shot today?! And I deflected and dodged so many bullets that I’d say I would’ve been an idiot  _ not  _ to bring my sword.”

Ashe laughed, which prompted Felix to groan and throw a pillow at him. He silently thanked Ashe for letting the pillow actually hit him. “There’s always a chance you’ll get shot, silly. It comes with the trade.”

“I  _ don’t  _ get shot,” Felix scoffed. “Usually.” He remained a moment in silence. The sun had completely set, and the moon barely had enough power to illuminate the room they were in. At that moment, Ashe’s eyes were the brightest source of light around Felix, wide and inquiring. Caring. “...I hate to say it, but I do agree with you that it has gotten out of hand. Every day, that boar is less and less inclined to listen to anybody and has ordered enough deaths that even the more bloodthirsty are questioning his motives.”

“I worry for him, too.” Ashe said, barely a whisper.

“We all do,” Felix whispered back, allowing himself to take Ashe’s hand. He’d missed that contact. He’d missed and now loathed how easy it was to fall into Ashe’s kindness, in his rhythm. His next question was wishful thinking, but he wanted to pose it nonetheless. “You aren’t coming back to us, are you?”

“No. But I don’t plan to sit around and watch this city suffer a feud it doesn’t need. Fódlan has stayed strong on the backs of all three major families —Claude won’t let it crumble, and neither will I.” 

Ashe entwined their fingers and took Felix’s hand to his lips, a silent promise that he wouldn’t disappear for years again, that he wanted to repair the crumbled bridge between their hearts. Felix took it as truthful though he shuddered, the warmth of Ashe’s gesture a stark contrast against the dark cold of the room they were in, his softness the complete opposite of the synthetic bedsheets. The clash of sensations took Felix like a whirlwind, and he thought in the deep corners of his mind that Ashe was unnecessarily cruel.

He sunk back in bed, exhaustion sipping into his aching muscles. Felix really wanted to punch Ashe for providing comfort he didn’t even knew he needed and hadn’t asked for; he couldn’t decide which would be harder to do, ask him to stay or tell him to leave Felix the hell alone already. Either option would end with him going through a spiral of self hatred for different reasons. Fantastic.

“I thought you’d died at first.” Felix looked at their hands together. He left out the part where he’d cursed Ashe’s name for weeks for dying like an idiot martyr. Ashe seemed to have understood regardless.

“I admit I didn’t go the best way about it.” Ashe scratched his cheek with his free hand. “I was afraid that if I was upfront about my intentions, it would push Dimitri over the edge even more. Not that it changed anything in the end. Not to mention...”

“What?” Felix raised an eyebrow.

“Your reaction, of all things, scared me the most.”

Felix fell silent at the confession. He’d never stopped for a second to imagine that there was actual fear in Ashe’s mind —he hadn’t seen it, so deemed it nonexistent, and so he’d painted an image of Ashe in his head of someone that was eager to the point of recklessness. If he’d called Ashe a fool before, he was the one feeling extremely foolish and selfish at that very moment. Not once had he considered Ashe depended on Felix’s opinion in any way, because he was never bothered by anything Felix said, and took it all with a smile and a friendly quip in return.

The fact that it took five years apart and a lot of bitterness for Felix to even consider those facts made him want to sink into the mattress and become one with it. Maybe take Ashe with him. He tried not to look as turmoiled as he was.

“You’re an idiot. Yeah, I would’ve been angry. Yelled at you for a few hours.”

“Thrown stuff at me.”

Felix snickered. “That’s the biggest waste of energy.”

“Tried to slice me in half.” Ashe’s smile had become as bright as his eyes. Felix wanted to punch him again. 

“Ashe you asshole, you can  _ fly _ , but at least I can yell loud enough that you’ll still be able to hear me even at the top of the highest building in all of Fódlan.” Felix returned the smile, and perhaps it was the most genuine one to cross his face in months. His moments of joy had become rare, something that got him high like a drug and he felt the absence of too dreadfully when they weren’t there. He knew it was why he loathed them; for once, he decided to blame the painkillers for his softness.

“You can yell at me now.” Ashe offered, and something told Felix it wasn’t entirely a joke.

“Too late.” Felix closed his eyes. He didn’t want to fall asleep, knowing Ashe would be gone again when he’d open them in the morning, not his old partner but an enemy once again. If time would stop and they could remain in that bubble Felix would relish in it —realistically, he had responsibilities he wouldn’t shrug off, and Ashe was the same. “I have the same number,” he offered still.

Ashe’s hold on his hand got stronger for a brief second before letting go completely. Felix almost cursed himself for letting something so stupid and lowkey sentimental come out of his mouth when his phone buzzed on the night table. 

“I sent you a text.” Ashe said, sounding chipper. “Once you’ve recovered, we can go to your favorite coffee shop again. It’s on me.”

“Can’t complain about other people spending money for my enjoyment.” Felix heard Ashe move, and suddenly there was a pair of warm lips planted on his forehead, barely touching yet warmer than the blankets or the fire they would start in Dimitri’s office on Christmas all those years ago. They’d snuck in there once, after midnight, not of the age to drink yet with a good bottle of wine, and Felix had let Ashe tell him of ancient folk tales of knights and winter and old forest witches. 

Their first kiss had been after one of such stories, a tipsy Felix blurting out his feelings after a particularly romantic one and a flustered Ashe accepting them fully. Morning had found them asleep by the chimney, hugged to each other, the Dimitri back then unable to scold them yet looking incredibly confused to have found them on the floor instead of in a bed.

Memories of that kiss and the many after, of Ashe’s lovely smiles painting his every night until they suddenly stopped —Felix welcomed them with open arms for the first time in years, and tugged at Ashe’s shirt with his good arm in such a way that their lips would be on each other. It was sloppy, as if they’d forgotten how to do it, but the love from all the years back and the recent yearning were both there.

Felix didn’t let Ashe go until they were both out of breath, and then he kissed Ashe again, all the time keeping his eyes closed. Were he to open them again, he’d more than likely declare Ashe a prisoner and keep him there, dammit. He was feeling ridiculous, but it wasn’t so bad to be like that once in a while.

Time became meaningless, for however few minutes they had actually been kissing. Ashe pulled away only once Felix had become too tired to do proper kisses and was only keeping them together. Felix didn’t need to see to picture the fondness in his former partner’s expression. Maybe there was still something there that they could recover; maybe Felix could allow himself to be idealistic and believe things would take a turn for the better. He knew that mindset would be gone in the morning.

“I should go,” Ashe breathed out. 

“Don’t forget about the coffee.” Felix pulled the covers higher over his torso, hoping they would get rid of the feeling of emptiness taking refuge in his chest. “It’s a date.”

“It’s a date,” Ashe parroted, and Felix heard the window open and Ashe leave through it like some sort of overpowered thief. He regretted not looking, because in his youth there’d been no sight as Ashe surrounded by the red aura of his ability, ordering gravity at his will. He’d seen Ashe do everything, from stopping bullets in their tracks to protect his friends to lifting an entire building once when the situation called for it, and Felix had never become entirely certain on how that made him feel. It didn’t matter. 

They would have coffee together soon, they would catch up. In the stupor of sleep finally clawing at his mind, Felix hoped they would both live to see the day when they would fight side by side again.

He ordered Demon Snow to close the window and allowed rest to take him, the hurtful parts of his mind as silent as the night itself.


End file.
